The Bear and The Maiden Fair
by LittleDragon94
Summary: Dacey Mormont had been only six-and-ten when she found herself face to face with an angry she-bear.


Dacey Mormont had been only six-and-ten when she found herself face to face with an angry she-bear. She and her sisters, Alysane and Lyra, had been skipping rocks down on the beach, just out of sight of the Mormont long-hall.

The first they knew of the bear was when it bellowed from across the shore. Dacey grasped the rock in her hand that she had been about to throw, turning towards the sound. Lyra shrieked and grabbed hold of Dacey's leg.

The bear stood on all fours, it's large head hung between its hunched shoulders. Dacey knew that it was a she-bear because of it's massive size - almost four foot tall even when it was crouched over. Its brown fur was speckled with grey, and wet from where it had just come ashore. It had probably come from the hidden cove not twenty yards away, probably attracted by the Mormont girls' shouts and screams.

'Aly, pick up Lyra and walk back home. Slowly,' Dacey told her sister, two years her junior, in a calm voice. Lyra clung to Dacey's leg. 'Lyra, let go. Go with Aly.'

'But what about you?' Lyra asked quietly. She was only six years old and had only ever seen a bear on the Mormont sigil.

'I'll follow after you,' Dacey assured her. 'Go on, I promise.'

'Come on Lyra,' Aly urged. Lyra's little hands released Dacey's leg as Aly led her away.

The bear trotted forward a few paces. Dacey held her ground, trying to figure out what the bear was doing. Back when Uncle Jeor had been the Lord of Bear Island, before he had become the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he had taught her what to do if confronted with a bear.

'_The first trick is to know what the bear wants_,' he had told her in his deep gruff voice. '_How you act around a bear is very important; it will react differently if it feels you are a threat or if it is merely curious_.'

Movement behind the she-bear caught Dacey's eye. Two cubs emerged from behind their mother. That was a bad sign.

'_A mother protecting her children is far more ferocious than any male, and a she-bear protecting its cubs is likely to attack - your dear mother is proof of that. Your best bet is to back away slowly, look as nonthreatening as possible. Try and talk to the bear if it helps you, speak loudly, but keep your voice level and calm_.'

Dacey took a few deep, calming breaths and moved backwards, away from the bear, taking care not to trip over any loose pebbles or stone ledges of the rocky beach. Her long dark hair whipped at her face, stinging her cheeks like hundreds of tiny needles.

She spoke in a loud, steady voice, like Uncle Jeor had told her. 'It's okay,' she told the bear. 'I'm not here to hurt you or your cubs.' Hearing her own voice, as calm as it was, made her feel less afraid. Though her heart was hammering in her chest harder than a blacksmith at a forge, she repressed the urge to run away and hide.

The bear took another step forwards.

'_Avoid eye contact. Watch the bear closely, but do not look it in the eye_.' Jeor warned. Dacey focused her gaze just above the bear's head. '_If it doesn't stop when you back away, stand your ground. Try to make yourself look as big as possible_.'

Dacey planted her bare feet shoulder-width apart and spread her arms wide. She hoped that Alysane and Lyra were safely back at the Mormont hall by then. She wondered briefly what their mother would do. Maege was heavily pregnant, but would probably still come charging down to the beach with a crossbow in her hands and a sword at her belt.

The bear cubs hid behind their mother, who reared up on her hind legs.

Dacey's breath caught in her throat. She tightened her grip on the sharp, flat rock in her hand. It was her only weapon, should the bear attack. She couldn't hope to outrun an adult she-bear, even as close as the Mormont hall was.

Though she was tall, she was slender, and felt tiny compared to this seven foot she-bear. It was at least three times as wide as Dacey. She tried to imagine that she was as big as Uncle Jeor or Cousin Jorah, that the rock in her hand was her morningstar, and that the bear in front of her was just another foe in the practice yard.

'Stop!' she ordered, trying to keep her voice steady as the bear roared, bearing its fearsomely sharp teeth at her. 'Stop,' she said again, her voice breaking.

The bear dropped back to its front paws and loped towards her, closing the space between them, picking up speed.

'_If the bear charges you, you must hold your ground and be prepared to fight back. The charge is most likely to be a bluff, the bear's way of testing whether you are easy prey or not. You must judge the distance at which the bear will stop, or it will be upon you before you can even raise a hand to defend yourself_.'

Dacey's breath quickened and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, completely drowning out the washing of the tide onto the beach. She adjusted her stance, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, just as Jorah had shown her when sword-fighting, ready to jump aside quickly. Bears couldn't change direction as fast as humans could.

She fixed her eyes on the charging bear, the words of her House springing to mind: _Here We Stand_.

And there Dacey stood.

It was a hundred yards away and closing. Seventy. Fifty. Forty. Thirty. Twenty.

She raised her clenched fist, her knuckles white around the grey rock. She shifted her right foot slightly behind her and pulled her arm back, prepared to launch the rock right at the bears face.

And then it stopped.

Dacey could see the bear's eyes; dilated coal black pupils watching her carefully. The bear panted, its warm breath like a dying fire, a cloud of mist that scattered in the chill North wind.

Dacey held her breath, not daring to move a muscle.

After what seemed like an age, the she-bear turned and padded away, leading her cubs inland towards the centre of the island.

When the last shaggy hindquarters of the cubs were out of sight, Dacey breathed a sigh of relief. The stone dropped from her hand and she fell forward onto her knees, suddenly drained.

A sudden noise from behind made her jump. For a moment she feared that the bear had returned and had somehow gotten behind her. But it wasn't a bear. Not that sort of bear at least.

Dacey's mother stood there, a crossbow over her shoulder and one hand resting on her pregnant belly. Beside her was Alysane and Lyra, and two year old Jorelle. Cousin Jorah had a longbow in his hands and a quiver of arrows hanging from his sword belt beside Longclaw, the ancestral sword of House Mormont.

They were all clapping. The sound was as loud as thunder in Dacey's ears. All of her senses seemed to be working overtime. Everything seemed slightly too bright, and the smell of salt from the sea was overwhelming.

Lyra ran over to her big sister and hugged her. Dacey was still on her knees.

The Mormont family swarmed around Dacey, engulfing her with praise and congratulating her on her bravery.

'I told you she could do it Nephew,' Maege smiled broadly, helping her eldest daughter to her feet. 'His Lordship here wanted to shoot the bear right away.'

'And I should have,' Jorah grunted. 'I wouldn't want a she-bear getting that close to me.'

Maege cackled, 'Aye,' she led Dacey back towards their home. 'We all know how uncomfortable you are around She-Bears.'

Dacey lifted little Jorelle onto her shoulders. 'Why didn't you let Jorah shoot the bear?'

'Do you think he should have?' Maege answered, eyeing her daughter.

'No,' Dacey hesitated. 'But only now that I know the bear was going to stop. How did you know it would stop?'

'Because I've spent enough years on these islands, and I know just how that she-bear felt and what it was thinking.' Maege patted her belly. 'She only wanted to keep her children safe, so she had to confirm whether you were going to harm them or not.'

Dacey thought about it for a long moment, Jorelle bouncing happily on her shoulders. 'But why bother? Why didn't she just walk on and leave me?'

'Because you could equally have been a tasty meal,' Maege grinned, nudging her daughter's arm boisterously.

Alysane pulled a face, falling into step beside her mother and sister. 'The bear wouldn't want to eat you,' she grinned. 'You're far too bony to be tasty.'

Dacey raised an eyebrow. 'I'm bony enough to beat you in the courtyard tomorrow morning,' she teased.

Aly merely smirked. 'Maybe you should just try staring me down - it worked well enough with the bear!'

Dacey smiled. They had reached the Mormont hall, made up of long logs and worn stones; probably the least comfortable and least impressive hall of Westeros' Houses. Yet to Dacey Mormont it was home.

They passed by the statue of a woman in a bearskin cloak, a babe at her breast and a battleaxe in her hand. It reminded Dacey that women needed protect themselves when their men weren't around.

But now the statue had another meaning: that women, whether they be she-bears or not, had to protect their family. And that was just what Dacey Mormont intended to do.


End file.
